


revolution

by Hamiltrash_Willow, perhapssoon



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/F, Human!Squip - Freeform, Idk what I’m doing, M/M, Rating Might Change, and there’s still a lot of gay, but there’ll be lots of it, i didn’t get the angst memo, lots of angst ahead toot toot, yikes what is this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamiltrash_Willow/pseuds/Hamiltrash_Willow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapssoon/pseuds/perhapssoon
Summary: Be More Chill characters are forced into Hamilton’s plot in the midst of a modern gang war. Things go as well as expected.





	revolution

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I thought up this AU where the BMC characters are put into the modern roles of Hamilton characters. Quite a bit from the original Hamilton plot will be skipped because we aren’t that detailed or patient of writers, and here’s the first chapter. Warning because there’s a lot of drinking and suggestive stuff.  
> —perhapssoon

Jeremy Heere hated crowds. With a passion. So ten minutes after he arrived in New York, he was already regretting the decision to even _think_ about traveling to this hellhole in the first place. There were people _everywhere_ , and he found himself constantly being pushed along by the crowd down the slippery roads to who knows where. 

New York also happened to be godforbiddenly _cold,_ despite it being spring, Jeremy was _freezing_ under his thin navy-blue sweater. Most of the people around him were wearing large coats, and even then. their breath hung frozen in the air in front of them. Speaking of which, most people were also staring at him in a way that seemed like they knew he was from out-of-town by the way he was dressed. Not that Jeremy could blame them: he also had that air of awkwardness that made people steer clear of him.

But that awkwardness was soon dispelled when he spotted someone that he thought he recognized. Rich Goranski was the son of a renowned minister and an acclaimed genius. He was also someone Jeremy had been hoping to meet, and pretty much had been the entire reason why he traveled to New York in the first place.

He screwed up his courage and tapped them on the shoulder tentatively. "Uh, excuse me sir, are you Rich Goranski?"

The person turned around, and Jeremy saw that it was indeed Rich. "Yeah," he said, not unkindly. "Who're you?"

"Sorry to bother you," Jeremy said quickly, "but my name's Jeremy Heere, and I heard about you at Princeton, and because I'm aspiring to be like you, I was wondering if you could give me a few tips?"

Rich stared at him for a long moment before grinning. "Of course, man, first things first: lighten up!"

Jeremy blinked, a bit taken aback. This really wasn't the type of advice he was going for, but since it was _Rich Goranski_ and his _idol_ , he decided to take it.

"No need to be so scared all the time," Rich grinned. "Because if you do, people won't take you seriously."

“O-okay,” Jeremy said quickly. “How do I do that?”

Rich glanced around them for a moment, eyeing the large crowds and beckoned Jeremy down the road. “We can’t talk here because of the people around. But I can tell you to stand up straight. Posture is important.”

“Okay,” Jeremy straightened his back and found that he was actually a good three inches taller than he initially thought. “Woah this is weird.”

“I know,” Rich said amiably. “It was hard to remember the first time I got that advice, but trust me, it gets easier.”

“Where’d you get that advice from?” Jeremy dared to ask. Thankfully, Rich seemed to be in a good mood. His violent temper was what made a reputation for himself but whenever he was feeling good, he actually was nice to others. 

“You’ll see,” was the reply. 

And so Jeremy followed Rich all the way across town to a shady-looking bar. Rich didn’t even hesitate; he opened the door and went in without looking back. 

Jeremy paused for a moment. It seemed like a bad idea to follow someone he barely knew, despite his popularity, into a bar. But, despite his judgement, he decided to follow Rich. Couldn’t hurt. 

The inside of the bar was musty and dry, surprisingly full of people. Jeremy located his idol talking to the bartender. He approached Rich at the same time the latter asked, “Hey, you know where Steph is?”

The bartender looked around at the drunks passed out on the counter, as if to gauge how much they drank and then nodded, beckoning the two behind the counter. They followed him into a back room, which was dimly lit by singular lightbulbs dotting the ceiling. Jeremy was careful to keep behind Rich, who seemed confident and comfortable with the situation for some reason. It gave Jeremy a hint that maybe this was such a common occurrence that neither the bartender nor Rich bothered to explain what was going on. Or maybe because this was a secret thing as both were careful to check to see which people were paying attention. 

They eventually arrived at the back of the room, where a lone figure sat at a table playing cards and drinking. Jeremy noted the large amounts of empty alchohol bottles around them. They looked up when the trio arrived. The bartender exchanged a glance with Rich, gave a slight nod, and left them alone. 

“Steph, this is Jeremy Heere,” Rich introduced. “Jeremy, this is Stephen Priege. He’s the guy who gave me all that advice.”

Stephen took a swig from his bottle and stood, surprisingly clearheaded despite his obvious constant drinking. “Nice to meet you, Jeremy.” They shook hands. Now that both of them were in the light, Jeremy could look over his opposition. Stephen looked about his age, freckles, bright blue eyes, and curly black hair. Rich clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s take this outside. ”

“You, uh, usually drink this much?” Jeremy asked, as they walked back to the crowded bar. 

Stephen glanced from the bottle back to Jeremy and grinned. “Yeah, I’m working on three pints of it. I can do two so far.”

“You gotta learn not to drink so much," Rich started, looking a bit serious, but Stephen laughed. 

"You're one to talk!"

The table they were heading for was already occupied by two young women, a brunette and a blonde. Jeremy opened his mouth to say something, but the women looked at Rich and Stephen with an air of recognition.

Rich reached the table first, and leaned over it. "Hey, Brooke, Chloe."

The women nodded as they were addressed. "Who's the cutie over there?" Brooke asked, pointing to Jeremy, who flushed.

Rich smirked. "That's Jeremy Heere. Jeremy, this is Brooke Lohst, and Chloe Valentine."

"You looking for some help?" Chloe asked, her voice dipping into a rather exaggerated French accent. "You need plenty help. Some eyeliner, maybe, and some--"

"He didn't come here for fashion advice, Chlo," Stephen interrupted, smirking slightly.

"Oh, I see," Chloe fingered a lock of her hair as she spoke. "so he came to _you_ for, uh, let's see here..." She pretended to consult her palm and then said, "sex advice?"

Stephen blinked, a deadpan expression flashing into place. "That's a new one."

"No, no, wait, I've got it!" Brooke jumped in. She snapped her fingers. "How to down an entire pint of beer in one go and still be a jackass afterwards."

"Haha, so funny," Stephen replied, looking unamused, though his lips were twitching slightly.

Jeremy was amazed. He had never really had friends before, but he was liking this little bunch already. Their willingness to interact and poke fun at each other was probably part of it. "So, uh, what do you guys do exactly?"

"You're doing it wrong," Chloe said suddenly, making Jeremy shrink a bit. "You tell _us_ who you are first, and then we'll continue."

"Compromise," Stephen butted in, slamming his drink on the table in front of them so it sloshed over onto the wood. "I'll start, and whoever wants to can go next."

"Sounds good to me!" Brooke glanced at Chloe, who shrugged.

"The name's Stephen Priege," Stephen began dramatically, but Rich piped up.

"No way man, we aren't taking that! Tell us your full name!"

Stephen shot Rich a glare before continuing, eyes locking onto Jeremy's, the latter blushing at the sudden eye contact. "Fine. My name's Stephen Quinn Uler-Ip Priege. Drinker, sleeper, and fucker with an asshole attitude and fight-me confidence."

Rich snorted. "Got that right."

"And I also happen to give sound advice while drunk for some reason. Oh, and I can speak Japanese."

"My turn." Chloe said, sounding bored. "I'm Chloe Valentine, I moved here from France a few years ago, but I still haven't finished perfecting my fake accent. And I fucking _hate_ this rule system."

"Rule system?" Jeremy asked.

"Oh, there's this stupid gang war going on right now that has all of us caught up. This bar is neutral territory, so we'll be fine," Chloe said airily.

"Me next!" Brooke said excitedly. "I'm Brooke Lohst. Tailor and smuggler. And a _really_ good sex instructor, if Stephen doesn't qualify."

"Excuse you, I qualify plenty," Stephen protested, picking up his drink again.

"I'm a horse fucker," Brooke clarified, and Chloe nodded in agreement.

"I've seen her."

"What else is old news?" Stephen took a swig and glanced over at Rich. "Your turn."

Rich shook his head. "He already knows me. No need to."

"Wow, such confidence," Chloe looked slightly smug as she asked Jeremy, "So what about you?"

"I'm Jeremy Heere," Jeremy started nervously, but Brooke and Stephen both gave him encouraging smiles so he continued, remembering to keep his posture straight. "I just arrived here a few minutes ago because I want to--"

"Become popular and cool like us?" Chloe asked, a knowing smile spreading across her face when Jeremy nodded. "Nice."

"You won't have to try very hard," Rich said, "because Stephen here is the epitome of cool."

"Depends on what your version of 'cool' is." Stephen downed the rest of his drink in one go as if to make a point and stood to go get another. "Because if you want to fuck people and be an asshole, I'm the right person to go to. Otherwise, Rich is fine, but he's just less fun."

"And by fun, he means drinking until you pass out." Rich interjected, looking annoyed.

"Aww, try to have a bit of fun, Richie!" Brooke smiled, pulling a bottle of vodka out of nowhere and taking a long drink before passing it to Chloe, who took a swig as well. "We might as well get drunk, with the gang war going on. We're probably all going to die."

"Lighten up!" Stephen was back, holding a brand new drink, which Jeremy noticed was already half-gone. "We'll all die except for Jeremy."

"You better play Beyonce at my funeral," Chloe told him, and Jeremy nodded frantically. _Why did everyone have to be hot and cool at the same time?_

"Okay, so that introductory shit is over," Chloe said, standing up, "let's go find Jake."


End file.
